


My Bed is Your Bed

by onlyasdark



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-13 18:43:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3392192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlyasdark/pseuds/onlyasdark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We are at war and a warrior does not mourn those she has lost until after the battle is won." </p>
<p>Clarke walks in on Lexa crying after they win the war with Mount Weather.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! A quick one-shot, possibly a two-shot, based on something Indra said in 2x12. 
> 
> If you're wondering, "Color Me" (my other fic) will be updated later today or Friday at the latest! I'm aiming for later today! It's done for the most part, I just need to make some small edits. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this in the meantime!

It isn’t until it’s all over that Lexa allows herself to break down.

She cries. She cries for her people, both sky and grounder. She cries for all lives lost and all lives sacrificed. She lets the tears stream down her cheeks and she’s yelling and she’s screaming and pushing tables and punching support beams. She cries for Costia and she cries for Ton DC. She screams for the people she’s had to sacrifice, each of their lives cut short because they had to lose a battle to win a war. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t up to her to decide whether or not their lives were worth the sacrifice.

She feels her whole body aching from the lives she has taken. The episode takes much from her and leaves her drained.  She sits down on her bed of furs, defeated. As the adrenaline wears off, she feels the exhaustion taking over.

With her head in her hands, she doesn’t notice Clarke slipping quietly into her tent. After they had liberated the Mountain, the remaining Sky people and grounders gathered at their camp to celebrate. After a couple drinks of what could only be described as the strongest moonshine on the planet, Clarke noticed Lexa was nowhere to be found so she wandered off to find her, ignoring Bellamy's and Octavia's teasing looks. She was now met with the broken sobs of a girl who was too young to have the lives of thousands resting on her shoulders. 

“Lexa?” She asks cautiously. Lexa doesn’t move. She’s sitting on her bed and Clarke can see the tears dripping down onto her dark pants.  
She should leave, she should give the commander her peace and allow her to grieve, but she doesn’t. She decides against her better judgment and starts towards Lexa, she pauses before sitting on the furs next to the commander. She’s not sure where to start. She considers congratulating the commander on their victory before Lexa speaks up.

“So many people, Clarke. I’ve let so many people die.” She manages to say, her voice hoarse from the crying.

“We had no choice. And look, we won! Our people are alive and the mountain men will never take one of ours again.” Clarke smiles. Bellamy, Jasper, Octavia, Raven, Lincoln, her mom, Lexa. They’re all alive and she couldn’t be more grateful. Every moment that led up to this has been worth it, to know they’re safe and together.

“I have hurt so many people.” She whispers and Clarke swears she can hear her own heart breaking. Lexa looks so small, so young. Her war paint has been washed off and her armor stripped off. Clarke doesn’t think she’s ever seen Lexa so vulnerable and she’s not sure she ever will again. She hopes she never has to. It’s so easy to forget Lexa isn’t much older than her, if older at all. Clarke has been allowed to break down, she’s been allowed to cry but Lexa hasn’t. Through this whole ordeal Lexa has been stable and stoic, not a tear shed. Clarke reaches for Lexa’s hand before she can convince herself against it. It feels smoother than it should and she traces patterns into her palm.

“You are an amazing leader. We could not have done this without you.” Clarke states. It astounds her the amount of admiration and respect she feels for this girl.

“Do you think I’m a bad person, Clarke?” Lexa asks and for the first time she turns to meet Clarke’s eyes. She looks terrified of the answer, her eyes wide and pleading.

“No, Lexa. I think you’re a person who was forced to make difficult decisions and in the end, you made the right ones. We both did.” She doesn’t say it to reassure herself. She says it because she believes it. The grounder nods and seems to accept the answer. Her sight focuses on Clarke’s fingers. They’re light and smooth and kind, in contrast to the bloodshed and hatred of the earlier fought battle. It intrigues her how both such events are allowed to occur in the same day. Just a couple hours ago, those very hands were stained in blood. Just a couple hours ago, those very hands drove a dagger through the heart of Cage. Yet, here those very hands are the only things keeping Lexa sane, keeping her calm.

“You’re not heartless, Lexa.” The sky girl says and Lexa looks at her with confusion. “When we were in the gorilla’s cage, I told you that you were heartless. That’s not true.” Lexa’s never been heartless. She showed her compassion in little mistakes where she let herself slip. In the way her eyes drifted to Clarke’s lips or the way a smile spread on her face whenever she was in girl’s presence. The way she accepted Clarke taking Finn’s life and not asking for more, even though her people must have not liked that very much. How she allowed Clarke to say goodbye and how she let both Kane and Jaha live. How her breath caught as she took Gustus’ life. How she was ready to die to give Clarke a chance to escape in the gorilla’s cage. The most recent event still replaying in Clarke’s mind, how Lexa took a bullet to the thigh in order to push Clarke out of harm’s way. Clarke’s eyes drifted to the bandage, only to grimace as she saw the red seeping through.

“How is your leg?” She asks quietly. It’s her fault. Lexa told her they needed to be careful, to be stealthful and cautious, but Clarke was in a hurry to find Jasper and Monty. She didn’t make sure the room was clear before she burst into it.

“It doesn’t hurt.” Lexa lied. She’d been hit with a sword before. She’s felt the pressure of a cool blade against her skin but she’d never felt a bullet before. It was faster than a sword. She didn’t have time to realize she’d been shot before the pain shot through her leg.

“I didn’t get the chance to thank you for that. So thank you.” The blonde murmurs, squeezing Lexa’s hand gently. Lexa can’t help but think her silly. There was no question about it in Lexa’s mind, she would die for Clarke.

“You have no need to thank me, Clarke of the sky people.”

“You’re something else, you know that?” Clarke can’t help but roll her eyes, “You claim love is weakness and yet, you take a bullet for me?"  
Lexa nods and looks away from the sky girl. She’s looking straight ahead but at nothing in particular. She’s far away now, Clarke can tell. What she doesn’t know is what she’s thinking of. She wonders if it’s Costia and she can’t stop the feeling in her stomach. She clears her throat and goes to pull her hand away but Lexa doesn’t let her. Her grip tightens and she seems to snap out of her thoughts.

“Love _is_ weakness," she stresses, "but I never said I wasn’t weak.” She murmurs looking up, the sky meeting the forest. Clarke’s breath catches as she realizes the weight behind Lexa’s words.

“I thought I could be strong, Clarke. And I was. I was doing so well. Until you stumbled into my life, sky girl.” She doesn’t know why she’s saying this. These words should have been said before the war, when she was unsure of her fate. When she could have blamed them on prewar jitters and written them off. Now in the comfort of Lexa’s private chambers they were real. Clarke was silent, as was Lexa, the only noises coming from the dying embers of her fire and the cheering outside the tent.

Then Clarke smiles. She turns to face Lexa, placing a warm hand on her cheek and Lexa can’t stop her eyes from fluttering shut. She can’t remember the last time someone has touched her in a way that meant her no harm, in a way so intimate and human.

“Love doesn’t have to be weakness, Lexa. Sometimes it just happens to be strength.” Lexa opens her eyes to the blonde girl’s voice. She’s closer than she was. Lexa can feel her breath on her lips and it’s almost too much for her. She nods in response, not trusting herself to speak.

She watches as Clarke leans in further and presses a chaste kiss to her cheek. With her eyes closed, she revels in the softness of Clarke’s lips. And just as soon as they were there, they disappear. She’s testing the waters, no doubt about it. Clarke leans back, her eyes searching Lexa’s. They’re different than she remembers them. Before the war her eyes would rarely betray emotion and even less so when she wore her war paint. Yet, here they were honest and scared and filled with emotion. There was happiness in them, and excitement about the closeness between them. Fondness, maybe even love. Clarke watches as those very eyes drift to her lips before looking up, asking for permission.

“Please.” Lexa whispers and Clarke doesn’t think she’s ever heard the commander ask for anything. When Clarke finally nods, Lexa leans in and molds their lips together. They’re full and they’re chapped, and Clarke knows they’re the last lips she’ll ever kiss. She feels her pulse quickening and the unnerving feeling in her stomach growing. Lexa’s softer than she expected and there’s no rush or roughness in the way she tangles her hand in Clarke’s hair. It ends all too soon when Lexa pulls away, and Clarke has to restrain herself from pulling the commander back.

“Sleep with me tonight?” Lexa asks shyly, a slight smile playing at her lips. It’s the smile of an innocent, young girl with a crush, not that of a ruthless commander. Lexa leans back and opens her arms for Clarke. The blonde obliges, leaning down and pressing a kiss to Lexa’s jawline before resting her head on the commander’s chest. Lexa’s arms snake around her waist and she presses a light kiss to Clarke’s hair. She can’t remember the last time she felt so content, so free. She feels her eyes fluttering shut as she allows herself to get lost in the light patterns Clarke is tracing into her abdomen.

“What happens in the morning?” Clarke asks, suddenly stopping and looking up. She doesn’t want Lexa to wake up in the morning and decide this was all a mistake. The very thought frightens Clarke but Lexa responds before the sinking feeling has a chance to hit.

“In the morning we will wake up, eat, and I will show you my favorite place. We won’t return till dark and then if you wish, my bed is your bed. For as long as you want.” Lexa’s answer comes out a tired mess of words and Clare swears she’s never seen anything more adorable than a tired Lexa. With her eyes closed, Lexa puckers her lips and Clarke can’t help the giggle that escapes her lips. She leans up, pressing another kiss to Lexa’s lips and watches the smile spreads across her face, a real smile, a hopeful smile.

And Clarke thinks she’ll spend the rest of her life trying to elicit the same response.


	2. Normal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I'm back. Color me will be up later today but for now, here's chapter 2! There mighttttt be a chapter 3, I haven't decided yet.
> 
> Thank you guys for all the comments and kudos, it means a lot. :)
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

The sun seeps through the thin material of Lexa’s tent, signaling that the world is already awake around them. Clarke hears the grounders’ makeshift village alive with laughter and shouts alike. She’s not ready to face the real world. She’s not ready to face her people, not Bellamy, not her mom.  They’ll all be looking for answers she doesn’t yet have.   

She’s not ready to face the lingering question of what now?  How do they move on from this? She’s not sure how to pick up the pieces, she’s not sure if she can.  How do they go on about living a normal life anymore?  How does she go on living a normal life?  Is there such thing as normal anymore?  

She’s not sure she can just settle down. Before the war she dreamed of a comfortable home, a loving partner, maybe a kid or two.  She wanted to travel and draw and capture every moment. That life seems too far away to reach now.  She feels like she can breath again knowing she’s not in danger anymore, knowing her friend aren’t in danger anymore, knowing that Lexa isn’t in danger anymore. But now that she can breathe, she’s not so sure she wants to.     

And what will come of this?  What will come of her and Lexa?  She’s afraid to move, afraid the slightest shift in position will ruin this forever.  She risks it and buries her face further into the nap of Lexa’s neck.  She’s surprised when she feels the arm around her shoulders tighten, bringing her body even closer. 

“Morning,” She hears the commander murmur. Clarke wonders how long she’s been awake.  She wonders if Lexa’s mind if filled with the same questions.  She wonders if Lexa has had better luck finding the answers.  

She presses a gentle kiss against the soft skin of Lexa’s neck and feels the grounder nuzzle into her hair in return.

“We should probably get up, it seems the rest of our people are,” Clarke tries not to frown as she says those words. Her people are most certainly curious of her whereabouts.  She hopes she can count on Bellamy and Octavia’s discretion.  She can’t even imagine having to explain to her mother how and why she ended up staying the night in the commander’s private tent - not yet at least.

“Hmm.” Lexa offers in response but makes no move to pull away.  Clarke feels Lexa press a kiss to her hair.  She pulls back, against Lexa’s groan of protest, propping herself up on her elbows.

Lexa’s eyes are large and as honest as she’s ever seen them.  Her gaze flickers from Clarke’s eyes to her lips and that’s all the indication the blonde needs. She leans down, capturing Lexa’s lips in her own.  Lexa’s gentle and careful and her kisses are nothing if not earnest.  She’d never think her capable of such tenderness.  It feels like her chest is going to explode. When Lexa pulls back to nudge her nose and smiles softly, she wants to scream at how overwhelming this feeling brewing is.

She’s never felt such emotion in her heart. She’s felt great pain. She’s felt great hatred. She’s felt love. But this, this is beyond all known emotions to her. 

She looks to Lexa, whose eyes are wide and she realized that the girl is scared.  She’s terrified as she examines Clarke’s face. 

And Clarke swears Lexa feels it too.

And then something breaks and she’s throwing a knee over Lexa’s waist, straddling her.  The commander gasps underneath her, her hands sliding up Clarke’s thighs to grip her waist. 

The blonde leans down, pressing her lips hard against Lexa’s.  The grounder’s hands bind behind Clarke’s neck, pulling her body down on top of her own.

She’s pressing open mouth kisses to Lexa’s neck before she sucks.  She sees the red starting to form but she doesn’t stop.  She wants there to be no mistake, Lexa is hers. 

She feels Lexa’s fingers digging into her shoulder, her breathing heavy.  She rocks back on Lexa’s hips and the girl sits up.  Clarke grabs her face, slowing momentarily to gauge just how much Lexa wants her. Lexa’s tugging at the helm of her shirt and Clarke lifts her arms, allowing the grounder to toss the garment to the floor. Clarke then reaches around her back and unclasps her bra, saving Lexa the trouble. 

The grounder stills then, her breath catching as her eyes trail Clarke’s body.  She looks like she’s trying to say something, form a sentence, a compliment, anything. But her mouth opens and shuts before she decides to pull Clarke into a searing kiss, her tongue finding its way into Clarke’s mouth.  Clarke pulls back only to discard Lexa’s black top.  She doesn’t pause until the last of Lexa’s binding is off.  She guides Lexa back down to the bed and looks, really looks. The lean muscles of her stomach make Clarke’s mouth go dry.  There are scars; Scars from years of training and years of battle the commander has seen. Clarke hopes new ones won’t ever have the chance to form.   

There are little ones everywhere. All over Lexa’s bare shoulders, all over her stomach, her back too, Clarke imagines.  There’s a large one under Lexa’s left breast, it was deep, life-threatening from the look of it.  And Clarke makes a mental note to ask about it.

There are tattoos too.  Lexa has large tree of sorts going down her left side, as well as one circling her right upper arm.  It must be a large part of the tree clan’s culture and Clarke finds herself wanting to know more about them.  She wants one for herself one day. 

“You’re so beautiful.” The words escape, she swears it. Lexa’s mouth opens slightly and Clarke takes full advantage of it, not allowing the girl a response. Clarke wonders if Costia called her beautiful often.  She hopes so because truer words have never been spoken.

“Clarke, please.”

 ././././././././././././././././././././././././././

It isn’t until late afternoon that they get up. Despite Lexa’s protests, Clarke insists her leg needs to be looked at and they need to eat.  Lexa rolls her eyes and huffs, acting more like a teenager than a commander and Clarke finds it rather endearing.

There's nothing she'd rather do than spend all day in bed with Lexa but her stomach protests the thought.  She's still giddy, remembering Lexa's hands on her, all over her.  She expels the thoughts from her head, knowing if she focuses too hard on them she'll lose the battle and end up pinned against the table.    

“We have all night.”  Clarke reminds herself more than Lexa, and it is only after a long kiss that Lexa rises from bed, following Clarke.  She sorts through some neatly stacked clothes, picking some out for herself and handing Clarke a low-cut black shirt, along with something resembling a black leather jacket.

“That shirt is for my benefit only.” Lexa says, a slight smile playing at her lips, and Clarke can’t help the laugh that escapes at Lexa’s attempt of flirting.

“Would you look at that, you do have a sense of humor.” The sky girl teases, pulling the shirt over her head, as Lexa frowns.

“That was not a joke, Clarke of the sky people.” Her face turns serious before her mask breaks and she giggles.  Clarke can’t help but smile.  She wonders the last time anyone has seen Lexa like this.  It's clear she's still in the same euphoric state Clarke finds herself in. 

Clarke brings the shirt to her nose; it smells like the forest and it smells like fire, it smells like Lexa.

“You look good in my clothing.” Lexa states, looking her up and down. Clarke feels the red spreading across her cheeks.  She lets her eyes linger as Lexa pulls her own shirt over her head, hiding the soft skin of her stomach. Clarke automatically misses it and has to talk herself down from walking over there and pulling it right off.

Eating is such a nuisance.

“Ready?” Clarke asks, head motioning towards the flaps of the tent.  Lexa walks over to her, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips before nodding.

././././././././././././././././././././././././././

There’s a calmness about the world that was absent before. There’s a hope that wasn’t there before. After their victory, the grounders cleared a large slot of land, bringing in tables upon tables. Yesterday, both grounders and sky people sat together, sharing liquor and stories, amongst other things. There today, still sat grounders and sky people together.  She wanted to laugh or cry, maybe both.  Maybe this alliance would hold.  Maybe they could learn to live together, maybe even like each other.  Maybe that's what war does to people.  Maybe in the end, after all its bloodshed, it brings them together.  

They walk close together.  Every time Lexa’s hand grazes hers she smiles and she wonders if they girl is doing it on purpose.  Lexa doesn’t meet her gaze but Clarke sees the smile tugging at her lips.

“Heda.”  The grounders bow as they pass, hanging their heads in respect. They respected her before, revered her even. But now, there was something even more, something along the lines of worship.  This was the leader that formed the coalition of the 12 clans, that formed the alliance with the sky people, that destroyed what had threatened their people for decades.  Clarke wonders if any other commander has achieved as much as Lexa has. She’s a legend to them. They’ll tell stories about her many years in the future, she’ll live forever.  And at that Clarke smiles proudly.

“What?” Lexa asks quietly upon sensing Clarke’s eyes on her.

“Later.”  The blonde shakes her head in response.  Her admiration is more suited for Lexa’s private chambers then in public.  Only there could see show Lexa her true appreciation.

They cross the camp to the tables and Clarke spots Bellamy sitting with Octavia and Lincoln.  Octavia is the first to spot the two of them, waving them over.

“Go sit. I’ll grab us food. If you don’t mind me joining you and your friends, that is.”  Lexa turns to her, hands behind her back.  She looks nervous suggesting it, and Clarke finds it completely charming.  It's odd seeing the commander asks for anything, let alone permission. 

“Of course, commander.” She teases and swears Lexa’s eyes light up as she nods.

“Where did you disappear to last night?” Octavia asks when Clarke sits down next to Bellamy.  She looks at her plate, poking her food back and forth and faking disinterest.

“And what about this morning?” Her brother asks playfully, wiggling his eyebrows.  It all seems so silly, so childish, so normal and Clarke can’t help but grin. A couple days ago banter like this would be unheard of.  

“I- uh. I-“ Clarke stutters.  Does she lie?  She knows they know but does she still lie?  She should have asked Lexa how they were going to go about this.

“I tried to rein them in, I really did.” Lincoln offers her an apologetic smile as he looks to Octavia.  She finds herself wondering if Lexa looks at her that way.

“There was an awful lot of screaming coming from that tent this morning.” Octavia continues seeing the blush on the blonde's cheeks.

Clarke’s eyes go wide.

She can’t tell if Octavia is joking or if she’s being serious.  Is it possible everyone in the camp had heard their morning endeavors? They couldn't have been that loud, could they?  Her mind drifts to Lexa's moans.  She swallows hard, crossing her legs.  Lexa withering under her.  Lexa's mouth hot against her skin.  Lexa whimpering as Clarke pushed inside her.  Lexa's teeth grazing her nipple.  She has to stop herself from shuddering and suddenly tonight seems very far away. 

“Oh my god.  I was kidding.”  Octavia starts laughing.  Clarke scowls herself and watches Octavia brush tears from her cheeks. 

“But now we know.” Bellamy offers her a high five but she glares him down. Goddamn Blakes. Lincoln shushes them when he sees the Heda approaching.  He stands, bowing and she dismisses him quickly.

“Lincoln, Bellamy, Octavia, I’m glad to see you’re all doing well.” The commander greets them, her voice sincere and Clarke appreciates that.  She sets a plate in front of the blonde, taking a seat next to her, thighs touching.

“Commander," Octavia greets, "Clarke was just telling us about her morning.”  She's testing the waters, trying to see how much is too much.

“Oh?” Lexa asks, turning her head to look at Clarke, “From what I heard, she spend it well.”

It’s playful and Bellamy and Octavia grin as Lincoln’s mouth drops.  Clarke sputters, completely mortified and she brings her hand to grab the bridge of her nose. She couldn’t have been that loud. Who would have thought the commander would be a fan of any sort of sexual innuendos or implications.

Lexa’s sporting a smug look as Bellamy does his best not to laugh.  

“Average at best.” Clarke shoots back, not allowing Lexa to have the last word, and the commander raises an eyebrow at the challenge.

“Clarke, that’s not what you were saying a couple hours ago.”

Clarke looks at the commander's faux innocent gaze, her mouth wide open.  Lexa winks and Clarke can't find any way to rationalize this in her mind.  Did those words really just come out of the commander's mouth.  Lexa winks, looking away from her and taking a bite of her bread. 

“Oh my fucking god.”  Bellamy cries, unable to keep it in anymore, banging his hand on the table.

“Fucking called it, you owe me a massage, Lincoln.”  Octavia has a hand over her mouth, an inaudible laugh coming out.  Even Lincoln's laughing as his head snakes around Octavia's shoulders and he presses a kiss to her cheek. 

“Hell yeah.”  Bellamy exclaims offering Lexa a high five.  Clarke doesn't expect her to reciprocate, she’s never done the gesture herself but has seen the sky people do it often.  To Clarke's surprise she obliges with a smirk.

“I hate all of you.” Clarke chuckles, dropping her head into her hands.  After the laughter finally dies down, Bellamy finally takes pity on her and brings up his desire to start melee training with Lexa.  The blonde peeks through her fingers, observing the commander speak.  Her side profile is stunning and Clarke finds herself wants to run her fingers over Lexa's jawbone.  Clarke's not sure if she believes in gods but she's sure Lexa was sculpted by them. 

She realizes she’s never seen Lexa converse so easily with people.  She’s only seen Lexa negotiating.  She’s only seen her talk tactical.  She’s only ever seen her talk about geopolitical disputes with other clans and the possibilities of armed conflict.  

She’s never seen her have a conversation about how she welded her first blade.  She’s never seen Lexa speak of her parents.  Yet, here she is, telling none other than sky people about how her father, who’s still alive, used to mine his own ores and make his own weapons.  She tells Bellamy she has some older blades lying around, good blades, that could use a new owner.  He smiles grateful at the offer, knowing the importance of it. It’s an honor, getting anything from the commander.  She knows the grounders would kill for even a dagger of the commanders and here she was, offering a blade to Bellamy. 

Lexa respects him, Clarke realizes.  She respects all of them.   

Lexa’s hand brings her back to the conversation as it slides to land just above Clarke’s knee.  She squeezes gently before tracing patterns into the material.

Clarke remembers Lexa promising to show her her favorite place.  She supposes it’ll have to wait till tomorrow but it doesn’t upset her.  She likes knowing she has tomorrow and the next day, and the day after that.  Before the war, tomorrow wasn’t a guarantee, let alone the day after.

Bellamy is telling them now how he used to run around the ark, fighting imaginary monster with a broom.  They all laugh at the thought, even Lincoln and Lexa.  

Sitting at the dinner table with her best friends and her – well, Clarke doesn’t really know who Lexa is to her yet – talking about their childhoods, it all seems too normal.  And Clarke loves it.  There’s no talk of war, no talk of bloodshed.  Tomorrow they will figure out how to prepare for winter, but today they will not touch upon that topic. 

Today is for them and Clarke thinks that maybe, just maybe, she can do normal.


End file.
